


not a need but a want

by honeycombkiss



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Girl Direction, girl!niall/louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycombkiss/pseuds/honeycombkiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis really doesn’t understand the firecracker sitting beside him. But he figures maybe it’s better that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not a need but a want

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/1656625.html)

for a [prompt](http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/1656625.html?thread=12936497#t12936497) on the [girl direction fic fest](http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/1656625.html) that read, “5 times louis feels protective over girl!niall (i’d like to see once when she’s sick, once when she’s sad, and once when someone’s violent with her – the rest is up to the filler, but always love to see tears) and one time he realizes it’s because he’s jealous (maybe someone kiss her? joooosh?) and does something about it. plus, sex!”

**I.**

Louis’ on a tight schedule and he doesn’t have time to fit anything else into his day, which has got to be why her name pops up on his phone when he’s already running five minutes late.

“What?” Louis’ voice is snappy and he’s met with a groan.

“I feel like shit.” Her voice is hoarse and he—against his own will—can feel his chest tighten with the need to _protect_. He sometimes thinks it’s a curse how much he cares about people.

“What’s up?” He’s juggling his car keys, school bag, maths book that refuses to fit inside said bag and a mug of Yorkshire tea from his latest trip back home. He tries to sound less angry this time.

“My nose is stuffy,” and, _okay_ , he can sorta tell, “and my chest is tight and I feel like the sun.”

“What do you want?” He _really_ does care, honestly, but like does this have to happen today?

“I need food and medicine and I’m _bored_ ,” she’s sort of needy, he thinks.

“Niall,” he whines. “What about Harry?”

“He left me,” Louis sighs as her voice becomes whinier. “He had work.”

“So do I, and class,”

“But, _Louis_ ,” Louis rolls his eyes, imaging Niall lying on her bed, in a fort of blankets and pillows, her eyes clamped shut. She’s always the same when she’s sick; which like, super difficult.

“Babe,” he sighs, glancing down at his cracked watch that he can’t exchange for a new one since it was his first gift from Niall and she smiles every time she sees it on his wrist, and really how can he crush her like that? The time, though, only reminds him he’s _late_.

“I’ll die if I’m left alone all day!”

“Is there _no one_ else?” Louis thinks he might be begging now.

“No one I want.” He really should be flattered.

“ _Niall_ ,”

“Please?” He pictures her bottom lip stuck out in a sad, puppy dog pout and it’s those blue eyes that were always calmer and sweeter than his own that never failed to melt his resolve. He put it down for just being a good friend.

“Fuck it,” Louis throws his things onto his couch and attempts to maneuver through his incredibly messy studio flat. “You win,” he hears her cheer. “I’ll be over in five. You’re doing the work I miss when you’re better.”

“Anything!”

“You sound fine,” Louis grumbles before hanging up.

On the way over to Harry and Niall’s flat, Louis stops at a gas station, because neither of them can cook for shit. He gets twenty dollars’ worth of crap and he kind of knows he won’t’ eat any of it. Niall’s got quite the appetite, sick or not. With his car smelling like grease, he continues his job, wishing he wasn’t quite so protective of Niall.

He finds her just like he thought he would. She looks flushed, her bare skin red and blotchy. She’s moaning and groaning before she even knows he’s there. Her eyes are glossy and she’s got her hair in the ugliest bun he’s ever seen. She’s incredibly endearing.

“My hero!” She pops up when she hears his footfalls enter her bedroom, flinging the mismatching blankets down.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.

“Come make me feel better!” She pats the bed beside her and he rolls his eyes. Niall’s favorite show is playing on her fuzzy TV and the drapes are flung across her window, snapbacks littered across the floor. Louis loosens the tie he’d had to wear for his meeting that day, toeing off his dress shoes. Niall doesn’t bat an eyelash, as he climbs out of his slacks—her breasts are seen easily through the sides of Harry’s tank top—grabs a pair of a Harry’s sweats on Niall’s floor, because fuck, Niall’s got the AC on full blast, even though Harry gets mad at her every time, reminding her they _do not_ have the money to run it all day. Shrugging out of his button-up, Louis eases onto Niall’s bed. She flings an arm around his waist; she’s a hugger and a cuddler.

“What’d you bring me?” Niall’s voice is muffled in a pillow, but Louis’ perfected understanding pillow talk (read: Niall’s pillow talk)

“I didn’t bring you anything, ungrateful. I skipped class for you!” Louis’ voice is indignant.

“But I know you and you brought me something,” Niall mumbles again, sniffling along.

“You sound pathetic,” he tells her instead.

“Louis I can smell the food; hot dog? Nachos?”

“It’s kinda sad that you can tell all of that.”

“It’s _food_ , Louis,” she whines. “Me and food are like, _one_.” Louis scoffs and rolls out of bed gracelessly. She was right; there’s a container of jalapeno nachos, a relish smothered hot dog, four coconut donuts and three different bags of chips.

Niall’s breath smells awful when she’s finished. Louis wonders, and certainly not for the first time, where she manages to put all the shit she eats.

When Harry gets home that evening, he finds the two curled up in her bed and he’s always been the sensitive guy, so he sorta flaps his arms around before wrapping a blanket around the two, cursing them for not seeing what’s right in front of them.

 

**II.**

Niall really doesn’t understand. Because, like, she _knows_ she’s an amazing daughter. She comes round for dinner as often as she can and she’s never like _had_ to lean on her parents financially and she _always_ answers the phone when her mum calls. And while she’s not the most _amazing_ person and she hasn’t really achieved all that her brother has, she didn’t think her mum was disappointed.

She knows his lunch break is over, but she can’t help herself from calling Louis; it’s sort of natural.

“Niall?” Louis’ voice is hushed, though Niall feels a surge of relief flood through her.

“Tell me I’m not pathetic,” she asks.

“You’re not pathetic?” His voice is slow, as if he’s processing her request.

“But I am! Do I disappoint you?!” She’s turning urgent now.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I’m still doing generals and I don’t have a major picked out yet and-”

“What are you on about, Niall?”

“I’m like, useless,” Louis makes a clucking noise.

“That is not true, Ni,” Louis _never_ says something he doesn’t mean.

“And I don’t really have a job,” she sighs. “And I live with some guy-”

“Okay seriously, Niall, what’s wrong? You hate working and you and Harry are like, I don’t know!” Niall can just see Louis throwing his hands up, giving Niall a look as if she were insane, and okay maybe she is a little bit.

“My mum,” she groans. “She _hates_ me!”

“Maura doesn’t hate anyone!”

“Except her only daughter!” Niall half wails, and she’s positive now that she’s a drama queen, but the dull thud in her chest is so _real_. The woman that gave her life and raised her shouldn’t be so disgusted by her.

“Niall,” she can imagine Louis pacing and that makes her smile. “She doesn’t hate you. What’d she say?”

“That she was disappointed in my life,” Niall doesn’t mean to so suddenly sound so crestfallen, but like she feels as if she was punched again and this feeling really sucks. She wants to feel her normal happy.

“Why’d she say that?” Louis sounds angry now and for some reason that’s pleasing to Niall.

“Because I’m not taking anything seriously and I live with Harry!”

“How does that matter?”

“I’m not seeing anyone and she’s ‘worried about me’!” Niall groans. “And now I have that feeling you hear about in those lame ass movies Harry loves!”

“Oh, Niall,” Louis’ voice is soft and Niall just wants a _hug;_ one of Louis’ hugs.

“Are you busy?” Niall asks quietly, feeling foolish for calling him at work, but actually not really caring that much as well.

“Well I’m almost off.”

“Bring me Chinese and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s?”

“Of course,” he doesn’t say anything for a moment and she almost thinks he’s hung up, but he speaks up again. “Just, you’re not a disappointment, you’re, uh you’re just not.” Niall smiles.

“Hurry up and get here,” Niall says and Louis chuckles.

“I will,”

When Louis comes barging into her flat, she’s changed into pajamas, her body curled up on the couch. She’s feeling a bit better and a lot more ridiculous. She knows her mother only means well, but really, she can take care of herself and she’s happy and that’s all that matters; Louis tells her this later when he’s snuggled up with her.

“Are you happy?” She loves cuddling with Louis, even if he has the horrible tendency to tickle her unnecessarily.

“Yeah,”

“Then why does it matter what your mum says?”

“It doesn’t, but she _gave birth to me,_ Louis!”

“Yeah, but mums are old. My mum won’t stop badgering me about doing all kinds of stuff.”

“But she said she was _disappointed_!”

“I’m not,” he is honestly the best friend she’s ever had. “I’m actually proud of you. You’re so thoughtful and so happy. Like, no one is as happy as you! You can make Zayn smile!” Niall giggles. “See!” Louis’ thin lips are turned up in a smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief; they’re natural state. They kind of made Niall think of ice, if it were laughing. He snuggles his sharp jaw against the top of her head and she sighs.

“So like, I’m not a bad person?” Niall mumbles and Louis’ chest shakes with a silent laugh.

“Nope,” he tells her. “You’re not.”

“And it’s okay that I’m sad over this?”

“Yeah,” Louis promises. “You’re never sad, so I’m fairly certain once a year won’t hurt anyone.”

“Kay,” she snuggles in deeper, ignoring the melting tub of ice cream and instead focusing on Louis’ heavy heartbeat and the feeling of having someone take care of you.

 

**III.**

Niall’s small body is warm beside his, and he feels her hip bump his again. The music is insanely loud and Louis’ got a cup full of something in his left hand. Strangers are piled up against him and he just _loves_ house parties. It’s some friend of Harry’s—Nick was it?—though it hardly matters. These things are what make UNI worth it, Louis thinks. Stressful exam preps forgotten, alcohol pumping through his veins.

It’s one of those nights were nine thirty turns into one o’clock and Louis’ having a hard time remembering where he is. The music sounds louder than it had and he can’t read the time on his watch. He lost track of Niall hours ago and he hadn’t even seen Harry at all, and he’s glad he took the tube.

UNI parties always seem to have lame games going and it’s when he’s finished a game of beer pong that he sees her; and his blood boils.

So, like, Niall’s probably the toughest, most stand on her own sort of girl, and she really can hold her own in pretty much any situation, but when Louis watches some guy twice her size shove her against the counter, he thinks he’s seeing red. Because Niall’s his little sister—and he’s always been the stereotypical older brother, hello he’s got 4 little sisters—and he shoves through the crowd angrily. He’s really not that big himself—he’s so damn lanky—but anger fuels fire.

“What the hell?!” Louis’ completely fired up.

“Louis!” He doesn’t bother to look at Niall, instead shoving the guy—sometimes he _really_ doesn’t think—knocking him against a table covered in pitchers of the amber liquid.

“Leave her alone!”

“Fuck off,” and okay this guy really is huge and Louis sort of wishes he had thought this through first. “She doesn’t need your protection!” And the guy shoves Louis right back and he feels even more stupid.

“Louis!” Niall shrieks. “Oh my hell!”

“He’s a big boy,” this guy is seriously an ass, Louis thinks, as he turns back to Niall, though Louis—heaven knows how—yanks him away, turning him to face himself once more. That’s when the first punch is thrown. Louis’ nose takes the brunt of the attack and he _hopes_ he didn’t hear it crack. After that, he really _really_ doesn’t know what happens. Because he cannot throw a punch worth shit and Niall always tells him he couldn’t’ hurt a fly and he looks like a twig when he stands next to _Liam_ , but all he can think is ‘This is Niall’ and ‘Niall was _shoved_ by that asshole’.

He thinks it was Nick that broke them a part—he should really ask Niall for the details—and the next thing he really remembers is sitting in the back of Harry’s car with Niall by his side.

“You’re an idiot,” Harry’s chuckling, because Harry really doesn’t know emotions like anger and frustration. “That guy was huge.”

“He _shoved_ Niall,” Louis’ sure he slurs and Niall’s cheeks are mottled pink.

“I was fine,” she tells him, putting the bloody cloth back on Louis’ nose. “Just having a bit of a craic.”

“He was twice your size!” Louis exclaims and Harry nods from the front seat.

“He’s right,” Harry gives Niall a cheeky glance.

“You worry too much,” Niall tells Louis, a small smile on her face. “I was fine.” She repeats.

“Whatever,” Louis knows he’s being ridiculous, but this is _Niall_. “I wasn’t gonna watch some guy push you around.”

“You’re so cute, Louis,” she giggles and he rolls his eyes.

“It was a great party, though, huh?” Harry pipes up and Niall really laughs, going on about pints and music and screaming and Louis really doesn’t understand the firecracker sitting beside him. But he figures maybe its better that way.

 

**IV.**

She’s blinking quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Her blue eyes are glistening and she’s letting her blonde hair fall down in front of her face, hiding her features. With her shaking hands she pries off her little apron, wiping her hands off on her jeans, avoiding making eye contact with anyone. She knows Louis’ cars parked out back waiting for her—he and Harry take turns picking her up—and she can’t wait to be in his car, and far from the pub she may or may not have just been fired from. She doesn’t say a word to anyone as she leaves through the back door. It’s raining, and so she sorta rushes over to Louis’ car, the headlights flashing bright through the raindrops. He honks his horn, and normally she’d smile, but she just can’t manage it. It’s perfect weather, though, she thinks for being completely crushed.

Louis—damn Louis—notices immediately that something’s wrong, as she slides into the passenger seat. He’s got the music blaring, though he spins the dial down, giving her a once over.

“What’s up?” He—for some reason Niall doesn’t understand—thinks he’s a great driver, so he pulls out on the road, still giving her a worried look.

“I have the worst job on earth.” She sniffles.

“You love working at the pub,”

“I don’t even think I work there anymore.” Niall’s usually loud when she’s upset, but she feels too awful to overly display her emotions.

“Why not?”

“It’s a long story,” she’s mopping at her eyes now, swiping her fingers underneath her eyelashes, cringing when she spots the black makeup she’s only smearing into a bigger mess.

“We’ve got time,” he tells her, glancing down at the speedometer and gas level.

“I don’t even really know,” she’s sniffling again. “But my coworkers, I guess, were doing shit and they included me in the blame. My boss said that he _knows_ I was involved and then he started going off on me and I’m so sad. He said that because I’m Irish that’s evidence enough,”

“What the hell does being Irish have anything to do with it?” Louis’ not paying attention to the road, though he never really was an attentive driver.

“They were apparently drinking all the stock, and Irish people love to drink, but I _didn’t_ , Louis,” a fresh wave of tears brims in her eyes and she can feel them begin to spill down her pale cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” he pats her thigh gently. “I believe you.”

“He completely lashed out on me, in front of _everyone_ ,” she sounds so vulnerable and as she begins to choke up, her accent is thick, and she’s always been so proud to be Irish, but she feels awful now.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I loved my job,”

“He had no fucking right!” Louis always swears when he’s upset.

“I’m a failure,”

“I’m gonna kick his ass!”

“I can’t believe they lied about me,”

“They all deserve shit!”

“I’m so _sad_ ,” Louis stops his rant and his eyes soften as he gives Niall a sad frown.

“They’re a bunch of fucking cowards,” Niall smiles—a teeny, tiny smile—because how could she not when her best friends cussing. Louis doesn’t seem to notice.

“Swerve,” Niall half shouts when he acts as if he’ll hit a curb and he does, but she’s unfazed.

“You were the best barista ever, okay? And if they’re gonna say you were drunk the whole time then they’re shit.”

“And my boss said that it was because I’m Irish, as if it’s some disease,”

“That is fucking disgusting,” Louis bangs the steering wheel, but ends up only wincing in pain. “How could he say something so _stupid_?! You’re amazing! You’re hardworking and kind and-”

“Louis,” she tries to cut him off, but he just keeps going.

“And now they’re gonna lose the best barista they ever had! How could someone say that to you! I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind!”

“Louis!”

“What?”

“Why are we slowing down?!”

“Huh?”

“The car is slowing down, Lou,” she gestures lamely.

“What?!” This time the question is directed towards the speedometer. “Oh fuck!” Louis swerves slightly and the car gets even slower, as he tries to successfully pull over. And Niall curses Louis’ love to take the back roads, because there can’t be a gas station in, like, miles.

“This is the worst day,” Niall groans, throwing her head back, banging it against the back of the seat. “I just wanna go home and never get up.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis sits back in his seat heavily. “I don’t have my phone,” he admits a moment later. “Call Harry,”

“Ugh,” Niall forks over her phone, and Louis rolls his eyes. Niall can hear Harry teasing Louis on the other end, and as Louis tell shim off and asks for help, Niall feels the sadness bubble to the surface again and hot tears prick at her eyes once more. This, she thinks, is absolutely terrible. After finally finding something she didn’t’ completely hate, after working hard, she’s having to deal with something like this. She sort of thinks that maybe this is a sign that working really isn’t her thing, and that maybe she is useless and maybe she really can’t hold down a job and-

“Ni,” Louis’ voice sounds gentler than before. “You’re thinking too hard.

“I’m hopeless,” Niall chokes out. “Louis, that was like my _first_ job.”

“It’s their loss,” Louis says gruffly.

“I had something going for me,” Niall wipes her eyes again.

“There’s plenty of other places for you,” Louis tells her. “Places where they’re not a bunch of assholes.”

“I thought we were friends,” she moans.

“Ni, you’re friends with everyone, you’ll make new ones.”

“I just,” she pauses, though lets the thought die.

“You’re amazing, Niall, and whatever those assholes said isn’t’ true,” she watches several emotions play across his features. “And, just,” Louis fails to finish his sentence, looking hopeless, before opening his arms to her, and she sort of flings herself into his arms, ignoring the way her leg twists painfully, and the scrape the console between them gives her, deciding to nuzzle into him instead.

“We’ll go talk to them tomorrow, okay? I’ll give them a piece of my mind and then you can quit or keeping working or whatever, but just, it’s not important.”

“Okay,” she sniffles.

“I know you didn’t do it, you know you didn’t,” he rubs his nose against the top of her head. “We’re gonna go home and watch a movie and eat and you can just forget everything, okay?”

“Please,” she moans. “I don’t wanna think about today ever again.”

“Deal.”

 

**V.**

Niall’s got a busted knee, and she knows it. Some injury from second form that never healed, and it bothers her every once in a while, but she’s usually alright. She’ll hobble along sometimes, unable to put any pressure on it. Today’s one of those days that Niall really hates. And it’s her own fault.

It’d been a makeshift football game and Niall, Louis and Harry went up against Liam and Zayn. And really Niall’s not sure what she was thinking, because the fire in her knee is excruciating.

“Fuck!” Her voice is a loud shriek of pain as she crumbles to the field. She’d gone in for the perfect pass, and Harry was going to kick it in and they’d win—again—but instead Niall’s focusing on the liquid pain that’s searing every inch of her tiny body now. “Fucking hell!” She’s got the worst mouth ever, and really she couldn’t care less.

She can feel them crowding around her, casting a shadow over her, and she tries not to focus on them, because she might stop breathing if she doesn’t remember to take an intake of breath. “Fucking shit!” She screams again. “I think I’m dying!”

There’s a soft hand on her back that she recognizes as Liam’s, and then he’s wrapping something wet and sticky around her knee that could only be his sweaty t-shirt and the pressure feels amazing. She thinks that maybe Liam’s her favorite now, but the next thing she notices besides the fire and ice sort of pain, is that Louis’ rubbing the small of her back and she’s not sure if it’s because Harry told him to, or if he wants to be helpful. His fingers are long and calloused and, as before, the pressure is exactly what she needs. She wonders when her friends became doctors.

The next several minutes she tries to block out of her vision, wanting instead just to remember every other detail of the afternoon. Liam tells her to distract herself, and while that’s great advice, it’s hard. She tries to think about the conversation Liam and Harry are having, and how Louis says that Niall should get to play even if she has a bad knee, Liam insisting that he knew something bad was going to happen. She’s not sure who she agrees with. Louis’ hand, still warm and heavy, never leaves her back and that, she thinks, is the most comforting thing she can draw from the entire situation.

After stabilizing her somewhat, Louis and Harry help her stand up. Liam keeps making Louis promise he’ll take her to the doctor—‘ _She’s my best friend, Liam, I can take care of her’_ and _‘I know what’s best for her’_ —and they decide that they all have somewhere to be. Harry tells Louis he’ll help get her home, until his boss calls him with an emergency and he’s whisked away, leaving Louis and Niall to manage it all on their own. Which is really the worst idea of all, because Louis has no idea what he’s doing.

“Owe!” Niall groans. “You’re leaning you’re whole fucking body on me!”

“I’m trying to keep you up!” Louis insists, wrapping his arm around her once more, trying to keep her upright. And Niall just knows what’s running through his head, because this is _Louis._

“Well you’re only pushing me down,” she grumbles. “This was a bad idea.”

“I don’t have my car,”

“Walking back to my flat has probably got to be your worst idea,” she repeats, sounding slightly hysterical now.

“Well I’m sorry. We don’t really have any options right now.”

“Stop crushing me,” she groans out again. “Seriously, Louis, you’re like the worst protector _ever_ ,”

“Hey!” Louis gives her a look. “I am not!”

“Are too,”

“Are not!”

“Are too!!”

“I’m doing the best I can with the current situation, Niall, and if you don’t like it then you should leave,” Louis sounds sort of outrageous but Niall only huffs and continues trying to force her weight onto Louis.

“Do I really have to quit playing football?” Niall pipes up a couple of moments later and Louis instantly shakes his head.

“Hell no. You know Liam, he’s just a bit uptight.”

“Yeah, alright,” Niall shrugs. “I don’t have to visit a hospital? They scare the shit out of me,”

“I know,” Louis nudges her slightly. “I was there when you got the stitches, remember?”

“Oh my hell,” Niall’s face pales. “I wanted to completely forget that day.” Louis laughs.

“You want to forget way too many days, Ni,”

“I have a hard life!” Niall defends herself, but only ends up laughing at the look Louis gives her.

“You’re just basically insane,” Niall nods at that.

“Yeah, so?”

“So crazy shit happens to you.” Louis supplies.

“That’s got nothing to do with anything,”

“Alright,” Louis shakes his head, though he lets her have it.

It ends up that Louis really isn’t the _worst_ protector, he’s just maybe not the best person to drag you across town on a basically shattered knee, and Niall realizes that although he isn’t so great at keeping weight off of her knee, he’s great at caring about people and Niall decides that she wants to be like that one day. (Louis tells her she’s already perfect at it.)

 

**I.**

It’s a Sunday, which means Louis’ free to do whatever he wants. He’s not ever really sure what that is, though Niall calls and says he has to come over immediately, and so that kind of determines things for him. Luckily, her flat isn’t quite so far away and when he’s flinging her front door open, she rushes to his side and bounces giddily.

“I have to tell you something!” She’s bouncing and Louis’ not sure what it’s all about, but he can’t deny how much he loves to see her so happy.

“What is it?”

“It’s huge!”

“Tell me!”

“I met somebody,” she’s biting her bottom lip, tugging on it between her teeth and for a moment Louis’ not sure what she said, but suddenly the words sink in and he feels a knot twist into his stomach that he doesn’t really understand.

“What kind of somebody?”

“Like a good kind of somebody,” she winks and giggles. “His name is Josh and he plays drums in this band and he’s so _cute_ , Louis!”

“Cute?” Louis raises an eyebrow. “That tells me nothing about him! He could be a murderer!”

“A murderer?” Niall laughs again, her ocean blue eyes crashing in waves from every direction. “He’s not a murderer.”

“You don’t know that,” Louis tells her seriously and she giggles again.

“ _Okay_ ,” she consents. “He’s a nice, _maybe murderer_ , and I think I’m in love.”

“You’re not in love,” Louis scoffs, and Niall’s face falls a bit.

“Why not?”

“You don’t fall in love after meeting somebody, Niall.”

“Love at first sight?” She supplies and he shakes his head.

“Love isn’t like that. Did you love me the moment you met me?”

“Well, not necessarily, but that’s different, Lou,”

“Not really. He’s not more important than I am, is he?” She looks truly perplexed now, as if she’s not even sure who she’s talking to, and in the back of Louis’ mind he knows he’s being odd, but he ignores it because it’s easier than trying to figure out what he’s feeling.

“Of course not,” Niall shakes her head. “He’s just a guy that I met, and we have a date on Tuesday, and I wanted to tell you,”

“Well great, then,” Louis grumbles. “Let’s go get something to eat.” He grabs her wrist, and as he drags her out into town, he watches her face gain it’s innocent, loving look again and he feels at ease. He’s not sure why it is that he doesn’t want her to see anybody, but he sort of decides that he just wants what’s best for Niall. This guy could be anybody, and the last thing he wants is for Niall to get hurt in anyway. She deserves only the best, and after years of knowing and blindly protecting Niall against harm, he feels like he can only continue to do so. There’s really no way he could stop now.

So he leaves it.

 

Tuesday’s date comes along, and then he’s hearing about another on Saturday, and then again the following Wednesday when he and Niall had planned to drive three cities away to go to her favorite restaurant that was virtually the only one of its kind. And sure he’d told her it was no big deal, but he hadn’t _meant that_. He loved going out with Niall, getting to spend time with her, and this was basically the last straw, because he’s storming to her flat when he knows Josh will be by to pick her up in half an hour. He cannot have his best friend blow him off again, whether this is the guy of her dreams or not.

He bangs on the door twice before he comes in, not bothering to wait for somebody to answer. It doesn’t look as if Harry’s home, and Louis figures he’s working. He can hear shuffling in the tiny bathroom the two share and he goes rushing in, ready to say what, he isn’t sure.

“Niall Horan.” Louis’ not sure how authoritive his voice sounds, and it seems kind of weird, but really he just wants his best friend back.

“Louis?” Niall glances away from the mirror where she’s applying her makeup and Louis wants to scream because _Niall doesn’t wear makeup_. At least not like that, not dark colors that cover up her creamy skin, and okay where did that thought come from?

“What the hell?!” He exclaims, and she gives him a puzzled look.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?!” He laughs humorlessly. “Niall, you’re blowing me off, again!”

“What are you talking about, Lou?”

“Today, Niall! We were supposed to go out! Just the two of us!”

“You said it was no big deal. I asked you if you cared.”

“Why don’t _you_ care?”

“Louis, it was just a day out. We have day outs all the time.”

“Not anymore we don’t,” Louis crosses his arms and he sort of feels like a child, but his best friend is choosing some guy over him and-

“Louis, really, this isn’t like you,” It kind of makes sense all of a sudden, but he’s sort of not sure and if he’s right this is really scary.

“Niall, I,” he pauses, licks his lips, and okay, he’s pretty sure. Because Niall is honestly the most important person in the world to him, and he can’t imagine not talking to her every day, not begging her to help him with something, not having her laugh fill his ears after everything he says, whether it’s meant to be funny or not. And he _likes_ that. Actually he _loves_ it. And he loves all of the little quirks she has that honestly make no sense to him, and he loves how Irish she is, and how caring she is and how willing to help anybody she is. She’s insanely loyal, and positive and upbeat and friendly and-

“Louis?”

“I,” and there really are no more words to say, and so he _acts_ this time. Somewhere between gentleness and roughness, Louis grabs her face between his palms and kisses her with everything he has inside of him. And, he’s not sure what he expected, but she kisses him back, and it feels absolutely _perfect,_ in the most cliché way possible. He fell for his best friend, and he thinks that maybe this could be the next Nicholas Sparks novel and he sort of really hates that.

“Finally,” Niall’s voice is a laugh when she pulls away and presses her forehead against his own. Her cheeks are flushed, and he doesn’t really understand what she means, so he kisses her again. And again and again.

He makes her grab her phone and dial his number and while she ‘lets him down easy’ he kisses up and down her neck and he just _loves_ her creamy pale skin, and he finds that leaving a tiny little mark is so insanely easy and she looks even better with his lips burned to her skin.

He drags her back to her bedroom lest Harry comes home early and he continues to kiss up and down every part of her body and he can’t help himself from devouring every inch of her. She’s absolutely stunning and he isn’t sure what he ever did without getting to have every piece of her to himself and he comes to the conclusion from the kisses and touches she leaves that she must feel the same.

When they finish some time later, his body collapsed heavily on top of her own, he can’t help himself from muttering the mantra playing in his mind.

“I love you, Niall,” and she laughs, because this is Niall fucking Horan, before murmuring back,

“I love you, too, Lou.”


End file.
